


rough party

by chaoticautumn



Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, just take it, this is my first fic don't be mean, uh idk what to tag this so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 04:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16654069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticautumn/pseuds/chaoticautumn
Summary: stan isn't having a very good time and kyle ends up finding him





	rough party

**Author's Note:**

> mostly a vent i just really wanted to write sad stan cause fat sad mood  
> probably very ooc but what can ya do

Stan Marsh was generally a party animal all through high school. It doesn’t make sense why he’s shaking in an unlit bathroom with tears streaming down his face now. He covered his ears with his hat to drown out the booming music. Clyde’s party outside was an absolute rager, he should be having fun. It doesn’t make sense why he broke when he’d seen Kyle laughing at something someone said. Just because you isolate yourself from your friends doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to face them.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and slumped against the wall, momentarily welcoming the coolness of the smooth tile before lurching for the general area of the toilet, retching horribly. He clutched at the sides of the white bowl until he was done, and collapsed to the floor below, pressing his body to the cold.

He eventually curled in on himself, shaking, tears creating a small puddle on the floor as he choked out strangled sobs, his hands covering his mouth. And God knows how long he lay there. It could’ve been minutes but it felt like hundreds and hundreds of years.

A small click was heard from behind him as the door slowly opened and a figure blocked the light from the party. Stan could feel their eyes burning into his back and curled further into himself. There was a barely audible click as they flicked the lights on. “...Stan?”

He visibly winced, both from the sudden bright light above him and his best friends surprised voice. His eyes were squeezed shut, blocking out most of the brightness. It took a few minutes for the lights to be flicked back off again.

Stan could hear the footsteps and could feel himself being pulled into a lap, but made no attempt to acknowledge it. He finally opened his eyes when gentle hands tugged his hat off and ran through his sweaty hair, his breath exhaling sharply when the cool air hit his head. His eyes eventually focused on Kyle looking down at him, his light freckles, his shock of red hair, his deep green eyes filled with concern. He nearly started crying again just from the sight of it. Why would someone like Kyle even think to worry about someone like Stan?

Instead, he closed his eyes again and shifted onto his side so Kyle couldn’t see his tear-streaked cheeks, his knees hugged close to his chest. How did Kyle even find him? He didn’t think Kyle saw him bolt for the bathroom, but he obviously did. God, what was even going on in his mind right now? No doubt anger towards Stan for just leaving him and he’d probably yell at him for doing just that and Stan deserves what’s coming for him and- He didn’t even realize he was crying again until Kyle wiped his tears away, his fingers so soft and gentle and cool against Stan’s hot mess of a face. He choked back a sob, knowing someone so kind and caring like Kyle shouldn’t even think of touching Stan, but here he was anyway, his hands stained with his tears.

“You okay?” came quietly from Kyle, his voice carrying so much worry in those two words. Those two words snapped Stan back to reality, the reality that he was crying in his best friends lap on a disgusting bathroom floor. He shot upright, nearly hitting Kyle in the chin, and scrambled to press his back to a wall. His piercing blue eyes showed years of fear and heartbreak and anger and sadness, so much sadness that Kyle was sad just looking at him. Kyle had never seen so much emotion in Stan’s eyes. He raised his hands to show he didn’t intend to hurt Stan and crept closer to the panicked teenager, who was watching his every move warily. “Chill out, dude, I won’t hurt you. I just want to help. Please.”

That last word, that last damned word, was what tore the floodgates down. Stan watched him for half a second more, then slumped down against the wall, covering his face with his arms. Kyle scooted closer to him and wrapped his arms securely around him, making unspoken promises he was so sorry he was hurting and he wanted to help and he just had to talk to him. They sat like that for what seemed like an eternity for the both of them, Stan shuddering silently and Kyle soothing him. Stan finally spoke, his voice muffled and shaky.

“Sorry.”

“What?”

“I said sorry.” He heaved a sigh, shifting away from Kyle’s touch. “For everything shitty I’ve ever done to you ever since we’ve been friends.” His voice started to choke up again and tears pricked at his eyes, but he kept talking anyway. “I’ve been a fucking horrible friend and you deserve so much better than anything I could offer-”

“Stan.”

“-’cause I’m just a stupid fucking teenager with no goddamn idea what he’s doing with his life and spends all his time drinking shitty beer instead of actually talking to his super best friend who I don’t even know actually considers me his best friend and-”

“Stan.”

Stan forced his mouth closed and rested his chin on his arms again, seeming to find a floor tile much more interesting. Kyle reached out to hold him again, but hesitated when he flinched away from his touch and dropped his arms back in his lap.

“Dude-”

“Go away.”

The suddenness of those words managed to freeze Kyle in place. “I- No?”

“Please.” It sounded like Stan was about to cry again, his voice coming out 10x quieter than he would’ve liked.

“What’s been up with you lately?” 

Stan avoided eye contact, still focused on the floor while Kyle continued. “I’m serious, man. You’ve been avoiding me in school, you’ve replied to little or maybe none of my texts or calls, and now I find you crying in the bathroom of Clyde’s party. The hells wrong?”

Stan’s eyes snapped up to meet Kyle’s with such force the confident ginger nearly recoiled. “What the fuck do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? You obviously just don’t want me around you anymore, so I made it easier for you by leaving you the fuck alone.”

“I’ve been worried out of my fucking mind because of you. Do you know how hard it is to focus on school when your so-called best friend’s ignoring you with no good reason behind it?”

“That’s just it! It always goes back to school with you! There’s more to life than learning shit in school, Kyle. Maybe you would know that if you actually tried to hang out with your friends more often.” Stan shook his head and stood up, rubbing the tears he didn’t realize he was crying away with one hand and grabbed his hat from the floor. “I’m getting a drink.”

“No the fuck you’re not,” Kyle snarled, and stood up to block the bathroom door. Both knew Stan didn’t stand a chance against the skinny but bizarrely strong teenager when he had his mindset.

Stan’s angry eyes glared up at him, his hand tightening into a fist around his hat, but he didn’t make a move against Kyle. After a few seconds of tense silence, Stan shook his head and backed against the wall again, sliding down to sit on the floor and tossed his hat against a wall angrily. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck this.”

Kyle kept his eyes trained on him, burning with either anger or sadness, then slowly sat down across from Stan, watching him warily in case he wanted to make any sudden moves. Stan eventually curled back up into his ball and hid his face in his arms again. 

“I just want my best friend back.” His voice was weak and muffled.

Kyle stayed where he was despite every part of his mind screaming to comfort Stan, forcing himself to not move a muscle. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Stan didn’t answer for a while. “I didn’t want you to shove me away. You have better things to do than hang out with me, like school or hanging out with someone else, like Kenny or Craig or even Cartman.”

Kyle had to push back a bark of laughter at the suggestion he would rather see Cartman than Stan. “You really think I would rather hang out with Cartman?” Stan made no attempt to answer that time.

Kyle shook his head and masked his grin with concern before he shifted to the wall Stan was against, pulling him in for a hug. “Don’t think so low of yourself,” he murmured, muffled against Stans’ hair. “I would never choose anyone over you.”

Stan immediately choked up, eyes welling with tears as he wrapped his arms around Kyle, fingers clutching at anything he could. His body shook as silent sobs escaped his mouth, chest heaving as he tried, and ultimately failed, to breathe normally. He started quietly repeating what seemed to be nonsense to Kyle until he realized Stan was saying “sorry” over and over and over again. All Kyle could do was stroke his hair gently and murmur “it’s okay” in response to each “sorry.”

It was only when Stan eventually stopped talking that Kyle realized the smaller boy had dozed off, his tears and drool soaking his face and Kyle’s jacket. He sighed, watching Stan’s chest rise and fall for a few seconds and wiping his tears away before he gently shook him awake. “Hey, wake up, dumbass.”

Stan groaned and turned his head even more into Kyle, hiding his face. A soft smile appeared on Kyle’s lips as he rolled his eyes. “C’mon, dude, let’s get you home.”


End file.
